What Happens In War
by PLLHalebSpoby
Summary: For the AU Spoby Week. Spencer Hastings had dreamed of meeting the one man that would sweep her off her feet. The Civil war changes all that. She became a nurse, helping the sick and wounded, when she meets the an injured soldier, Toby Cavanaugh. Will she trust her heart and instincts and take the plunge?


**Period Romance**

_1800s_

The Hastings family was one of honor, of respect, and prestige. Lineages of lawyers and traders marked the family tree. The eldest daughter of Veronica and Peter Hastings, Melissa, had done the respectable thing and had married a successful and wealthy man, Ian Thomas.

Finally giving birth to his child, Taylor. They represented all that it meant to have a decent reputation, and a solid family unit.

Melissa's younger sister, Spencer, the black sheep of the family, had done no such thing. Even though heaps of men had been paraded around in front of her for for her to choose from.

She didn't want to choose someone just for the sake of choosing someone. She wanted it to be real, she wanted an epic romance set for the ages, one that would leave her breathless and wanting every ounce of him.

"Oh, Spencer," her mother sighed, "this family, this town, is expecting you to find a man of decent background and good breeding."

Spencer had always been an untraditional kind of girl-rejecting most of the core values that made up her family's name. No, she wouldn't rather find a man just for the purpose of finding one.

No, she wouldn't call her dreams "fantasies" because they weren't.

Yes, she wanted to find a man that loved her for _her_. It shouldn't be that hard, but when she factored in every man that wanted her just for her family's name, she was up against a mountainous foe.

"I understand that, mother," she replied, through gritted teeth. "But I do not wish to find a man that I have no feelings for."

"You're being _foolish_," she snapped, "indulging in fantasies."

"Maybe I am, but if that's called finding true love, then I cannot help it, I'm afraid."

Shaking her head like she was being impertinent child, her mother left the room. Spencer was used to that. Whenever a conversation didn't go her way, her mother would discontinue it, leave the room.

She had always been cast off to the side-abandoned in favor of her older, more "respectable" sister. It made her sick, the whole thing.

* * *

The war changed all that. Melissa's husband had been called away on duty, leaving she and Taylor alone to fend for themselves. While Spencer sympathized with her and helped as much as she could, it was clear her services were not appreciated.

Instead, she found her calling in the sweat-infested, bloody hospital rooms that catered to the sick, injured and dying. A nurse's job could sometimes be as unforgivable as a doctor's duty, but Spencer kept her head held high while she worked and nursed to those poor, unfortunate souls.

"It's a shame," Wren Kingston, one of the doctors said. "All of these lives that had been ruined by the war."

Spencer nodded, sucking back the tears that were threatening to fall. "I know."

"Some have to be amputated, others have to just lie-"

"Don't," Spencer said, "I don't wish to hear this."

It was the reality of war-but it didn't mean that she relished hearing of all the lives that have been stolen, all the lives that have been irrevocably changed because of it.

Walking away from him, she paced over to where the other patients were. Some of them had arrived in the night, some she hadn't seen yet. Some were too far gone to be helped, and so the orderly's had laid white sheets across their exposed bodies.

When a hand reached out and pulled on her wrist, she looked back on the patient that she had previously overlooked.

He was a wounded solider, his sleek body lined with sweat beads. The weak dressings that the doctor had applied to his wounds, was falling off, and he looked like he was on his last breath.

"Please," he rasped, "if you don't mind, please help me."

"Of course," she said, stepping over to his side, and gingerly taking off the dressings. They weren't doing him any good anyway, not with how they had been applied.

Underneath, his body was a maze of oozing, bleeding cuts. Most infected, some mild compared to the majority.

Shielding a gasp behind her hand, she grabbed the antiseptic rinse and started carefully dabbing the wounds with a linen cloth.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said, making the mistake of looking directly into his eyes.

If she could describe them in one word, it would be blue. Oceans rang through her mind, as she pictured the depths of them.

Shaking herself back to reality, she finished bandaging his wounds, before helping him up to take a sip of water. His skin felt hot to the touch, possible fever.

"How long have you been doing this?"

"Five months-"

"No," he shook his head, struggling to take a breath. "How long have you been caring for people?"

"Well in that case," she said, allowing a small smile. Unprofessional, but she couldn't help it with him. "My whole life."

"It shows," he said sincerely, "you're good at it."

"Thank you, sir-"

"No, call me Toby."

She liked that name. It suited him.

"Well, then, you better call me Spencer."

If they were going to communicate on an informal, first name basis, then she figured it would be best if he knew her first name, as well.

"Spencer," he repeated, "you don't hear a lot of girls being called. Especially none as pretty as you."

"Thank you. The fever should subside once the infection goes down," she said, attempting to return to a comforting, more familiar place. "After that, you have to stay off your feet."

"I can do that," he said, "but I don't know about my heart."

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's been stolen."

"I'm sure you girlfriend is very lucky."

"I was talking about you."

"Well, I-"

In how many ways were they wrong for each other? She couldn't name them all. He was a solider, far above her league as a nurse, and who knows how long he would be required to stay and continue to defend his country?

"If I could be so brazen," he continued, as if there had been no interruption. "I would like, once this is all over, to ask you out on a date."

She had always promised herself that she wouldn't marry a man that she didn't love. While she knew that the "love" wasn't there yet, what she felt for him was different than what she had felt for any man previously.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, I will go out on a date with you."


End file.
